1.
Well, I'm off down the road ev'ry morning 'bout eight,
Goin' down to a job and it's a job that I hate,
Hack and cuttin' mutton gut on a contract basis,
I climb into my overalls and take my place,
Till the boss comes along and he tells me that,
I have to clip and strip a stomach every second flat,
Well, I bust a gut just to get the job all done,
Clean and cuttin' mutton gut until the cows come home.
So, sling 'em here and sling 'em there,
Those guts keep coming in from everywhere,
How else can I afford to live the life that I choose,
Without those hackin' cuttin' bust-a-guttin' gutboard blues.
2.
Down the shute with a slosh and a slop,
Those sheep guts drop, they never seem to stop,
So I grab myself a stomach and I slit it wide,
I trim it and I scrape it till it's clean inside,
Turn on the hose and let the water run,
Toss it on the pile and there's another one done,
The pace is hot, I stop a spot to mop my brow,
'Cause my head has all been covered up with grass by now.
So, sling 'em here and sling 'em there,
Those guts keep coming in from everywhere,
I'm up to my elbows in this dark green ooze,
Got those sloshin' sloppin' never-stoppin' gutboard blues.
3.
There's hydrochloric acid eating into my head,
My hair's turning green and I smell like I'm dead,
There's jokers all around me sloshing juice on my knees,
And the temperature's hittin' 'bout a hundred degrees.
I've had a gutsfull of guts, I'm tellin' you true,
Don't think I could stomach one more ewe,
It's a way to make a living, but...
Sheep; I hate your guts.
So, sling 'em here and sling 'em there,
Those guts keep coming in from everywhere,
I've got to earn a living, and a beggar can't choose,
I've got those acid-burning, stomach-churning, money-earning,
Gutboard Blues!